


Asking To Be Dominated

by MyBellaLove16



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Dom/sub, DomPadme, F/M, Pegging, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, SubAnakin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-05 01:02:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/717080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyBellaLove16/pseuds/MyBellaLove16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her husband might be a General in the Grand Army of the Republic… but he’s also a man; a man who is just asking to be dominated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asking To Be Dominated

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: This is BDSM with a female dominate and a male submissive. It involves a smirking Queen with a strap-on and a pushy bottom Jedi Knight who’s favorite word is fuck. It is consensual sex between a husband and a wife who want to add something to their sex life. And if you don’t read the warnings and then freak out when Padmé shows up with a strap-on, please don’t complain. That will teach you to not read the warnings. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Wars. If I did Anidala would have had a happy ending involving rainbows and sunshine. Extra disclaimer: I think if George read this he’d have a heart attack, die, and then haunt me as a pissed off ghost. OR he’d find it hot. I personally don’t know what floats his boat. Only what floats mine. 
> 
> Song Suggestion(s): Figured You Out, This Afternoon and/or Something In Your Mouth. All by Nickelback. 
> 
> I Blame/Dedicated To: Harp. You delightful life-ruiner. I hope this is the kind of smut you were looking for. Your artwork is a constant inspiration. Never stop drawing. 
> 
> AN: This was inspired by the brilliant and delightful Harp and her artwork. Please check her stuff out at harpalyce.tumblr. You won’t regret it. Harp is delightfully evil. And she’s crazy for Anidala. Just to let you know, this was supposed to be a short one-shot but somehow it became this. I wanted more background to this, to set the scene and somehow it became two sex scenes and this pwp became a porn-with-some-actual-plot. Who knew? Also, I’ve never, at this point in my life, used a stap-on or been on the receiving end of one. So everything that I write is based off of word of mouth and research. And yes, I did research for you guys. If you want the sites I used, feel free to message me. I won’t judge. I promise. I am writing this after all. Also, if you see something that doesn’t seem right, please feel free to send me a comment and I’ll try to fix it. On that same note, if I get things right, please tell me. I’ve never written anything like this before and I hope I did it right. Also, I normally don’t write Anidala this way, so if you want a softer story for them, please feel free to ask. This is just as much a surprise to you as it was to me. I had no clue I wanted to write this until I did. 
> 
> AN2: I’ve reedited this story to fix the numerous grammar and spelling errors I found.

Her husband was home. Her Anakin, her Ani, was home. Padmé Naberrie Amidala Skywalker wanted to weep for joy at the joy that was crashing into her like the rain on Kamino. And she would have weep, would have sobbed for joy, if it wasn’t for the fact that her husband, General and Jedi Knight, Anakin Skywalker, was currently pulling her full skirts up frantically and throwing them over to expose her legs. She’d sob, but all she could do was sit up from their bed that he had thrown her so quickly onto and grasp at his utility belt, tearing at its clasps and yanking it off in swift and practiced motions.

She’d sob later. Right now she was going to make love to her husband for the first time in 3 months and 6 days. Tears were not going to happen. But this was.

Anakin grunted, a low sound that sent a shock of thrills through Padmé as the belt fell to the floor with her discarded cloak and his Jedi robes, obi and lightsaber. He was then shoving her back onto their bed and tugging at the strays on his black trousers. Padmé let out a moan unbefitting of a Senator as his tugging exposed his hard cock.

He stood between her spread legs at the edge of the bed, those blue eyes flashing, those lips just so red and gorgeous; clad all in black except for where his cock was jutting out from his black trousers.

Her husband was a fucking wet dream come to life.

“I want to feel you,” Padmé moaned to her husband, sitting up to pull at his arm and trying to tug him down and onto her; needing him in her.

He smirked at her, that dammed Skywalker grin that drove her mad, made her wet in even the most inopportune times and sent her over the edge. “Patience Angel,” he chided her, brushing her hand aside softly with his durasteel hand, still covered in its black glove, and then running those hard fingers over the buttons adorning the front of her black bodice.

“Anakinnnnn,” she whined, twisting under his hand, loving the touch, but needing more. She may be a Senator and former Queen of Naboo, but she was also a woman and a wife, and she was desperately in need of a fuck with her husband, whom she had fretted over every night since he had returned to the war.

She growled, narrowing her eyes at the slow touches. “Fuck patience.”

Anakin’s eyes opened wide at the profanity and then he was laughing at her in delighted shock. He opened his mouth to say something, probably another chiding remark that Padmé had no need for, and so she decided to take things into her own hands.

She sat up on the bed in once quick motion and grasped his cock in her small hand. The words that he were about to speak, died instantly on his lips and instead only a choked gasp escaped his lips. His eyes just about rolled back in his head as she ran her thumb, callused from holding a blaster almost all her life, over the head of his member. Under her hand she felt the slick of his pre-come; proof of his eagerness. She tightened her hand slightly and the hot cock within her grasp hardened further and his hips mindlessly thrust into her hand. His hand on her bodice tightened, durasteel fingers digging into the lace overlay. She looked up at him from under her eyelashes, fake innocence in her chocolate brown eyes as she whispered, “fuck patience.”

“Fuck patience,” he repeated, his voice hoarse, his free hand covering hers over his member, tightening her fingers over him.

“Good boy,” she teased him, biting at her lip briefly in excitement.

He nodded his head distractedly at her, his attention focused on their hands clasped over his cock, as if willing her to move.

She took pity on him, he had been denied sex as long as she had after all, and she slid her hand up and down his member a few times, slow glides that caused him to groan aloud. After a few glides she lightened her grip and pulled her hand away from him. He moaned in protest, his hand over hers sliding into the curve of her hand, trying to coax her back to him and his obvious need.

She brought her free hand up to his durasteel one, clasping the lace overlay of her dress, and tightened her bare hand over his gloved one. “I want this _off_.” She hissed the last word, raising her hips off the bed slightly, the lavender her silk skirts sliding over her trembling legs.

His blue eyes met hers, mischief abundantly clear in them. “How,” he asked, his fingers curling in the fabric.

She returned the look, a smile gracing her lips. Her hand over his tightened further.

At her silent consent, he brought both hands up to the bodice of her dress and grasped the fabric. He tugged lightly, biting at his lip. She lifted her leg and ran it along his in speechless encouragement.

He tore the fabric. 

The sound of ripping fabric blended together with the sound of their echoing moans as the fabric was torn away under his hands to reveal her pale skin. His eyes feasted on the flesh of her breasts, her darkened nipples and the toned skin of her revealed stomach. She quivered under his intense gaze.

When his eyes met hers they were dark with desire. Padmé felt the heat of his animalistic gaze burn her. “ _Ani_ ,” she whispered, trying to convey her love, but unable to find the words for describe this overwhelming, this lava hot desire and love that filled her.

He seemed to understand as he whispered her name back to her, reverence, love and worship clearly heard in the tone of his voice. “ _Padmé_.”

And then no words were needed. She grabbed at her underwear, tugging them off and throwing them aside to some unknown place in their room. He pulled his trousers down to his ankles, stopping them only when they were impeded by the tops of his sturdy leather boots and then pulled off his overtunic. But before he could take off his undershirt or help her out of the rest of her now ruined dress, she wrapped her legs around his waist and tugged him to her.

He fell into the curve of her body, his heat against hers. They cried out together. Understanding her need, echoing it, his hands went to her hips and as he lined himself up to her and she settled back onto the bed.

His eyes met hers and then he was sliding into her. Her cry was piercing as he slid into her, steady and certain. His hands trembled, sliding up from her hips to her waist and he moaned deeply, the sound vibrating through his body and to hers. Her feet, still encased in her dark heels, pressed into his body, urging him into her.

Sensing her impatience, he steadied his hips, and then thrust hard and fast into her. Her hands scrambled on the sheets and her eyes fluttered closed, overwhelmed at the feeling of being filled, stretched almost too much, but just enough at the same time.

Once inside of her fully, he wasted no time in beginning to pound into her. Her hips snapped up into his and his crashed down into hers.

It was fast, it was hard, but it didn’t matter, that was how they wanted. They had been denied this for so long. He was hard and inside her, she was wet and surrounding him; that was all that mattered.

When he was inside of her, everything seemed to make sense. All of his fears washed away and all of her worry fled to the dark corners of her mind. It was just them, moving and thrusting and cries and the taste of the others mouth on theirs.

There was no war, no scheming Senators nor Sith. No doubts or fears. Just the feeling of being one with a half denied from them for much too long.

He leaned down into her, thrusting faster and deeper, bending his knees slightly to get a better angle, and his mouth found hers. They barley faulted in their dance as he pulled her legs, one at a time, over his broad shoulders in a practiced movement made in order to deepen their thrusts. She thrust her tongue into his mouth in appreciation of the deepness of his thrusts, of the thickness and heat of his cock in her, fucking his mouth as he fucked her.

Entwined, entwined, entwined.

Padmé’s hands flew from the sheets and grasped at his board back, still encased in his dark undershirt, gripping the fabric tightly. They gasped into each other’s mouths, arching into each other, hands clawing; wanting more, needing just something to bring them over that edge.

Needing air he pulled away from her mouth, his head ducking into the curve of her neck. She arched that long neck of hers and moaned at the feel of his breath of her skin. Each pant sent a burst of heat onto her skin.

Anakin thrust into her harder, his hips pounding down into her, slipping in rhythm. And at the speed of his thrusts, Padmé’s hands grabbed at his ass, tugging him deeper down into her. A particularly deep thrust had her hands fallin over the round curve of his ass and her fingers accidently slid into the crease of his ass.

Anakin let out a strangled cry and his hips thrust harshly into her at the motion. Padmé’s breath caught in her throat, creating a strangled sound of her own.

His hips twirled, twisting back into her hands on him.

Padmé’s confusion at the broken thrust into her lifted and an interested light came to her eyes. She bit her lip in concentration, trying to focus in the whirlwind of pleasure. She slid her fingers over the crease of his ass, pressing lightly.

Anakin’s hips delayed the thrust back into her that it had reached and arched backwards. He gave her a frustrated growl into her neck, seeming to be confused and yet wanting.

Oh, and her Ani wanted.

Confidant in his desire now, she pressed her fingers in, the angle that her body, bent under his, allowing her to reach what she wanted. She pressed her middle finger slightly into the tight ring of his body. His hips on their backwards pull, pressed back at her and wiggled. She grinned and pressed harder at his body, sliding into the puckered flesh, pressing into him.

He mewled into her neck in pleasure, his hips twirling and his body trembling against hers.

“Anakin,” she gasped out, delighted. Feeling her orgasm building up in her, she slid her ring finger into him as well, till they were pressed to the knuckle and curled them.

He cried out, his hands tearing at the sheets beside her.  His hips pounded into her and back at her hand. His chest was rubbing against her pebbled nipples, a delightful pain.

“More,” he moaned, his voice strangled and desperate. “Moooore. Please Padmé. Fuck. _Please_.”

At his request, Padmé pressed her index finger into his ass as well and then began to curl those three fingers along with his thrusts.

His hips faltered, he turned his head and nipped at her neck. At the jolt of pleasure melded with pain, they cried out, she swore she saw lights flashing before her and then they were both coming.

Long jets of come, warm, shot into her, and she constricted her inner muscles, milking him and drawing more of that come into her. He thrust into her a few more times, slow glides that touched something hot inside of her and with a surprised shout she came again. She curled her fingers, her free hand threaded in his hair, crying out in pants. Her vision blurred at the pleasure of it all. She felt their mixed essences slid down the curve of her ass, warm and slick.

She gently pulled her fingers from him, his protesting moan in her ears, and ran her hand along his back in a soothing manner, calming him down.  

It was like this often. After months of separation, their orgasms were so hot and fast it spiraled them out of control, into some other orbit. And when they calmed down they were both so raw and open.

Those thoughts that had been buried came back in rushes and it almost hurt when reality hit them.

He had been away so long from her, he might have died. He might have--

Her tears finally came.

He whispered soothing words into her ear, his hands running along her sides, he placed a kiss on her trembling neck. He shook as well, his reality must have hit him too. Against her neck it was hot and wet. “It’s alright, I’m home. I’m here. I’m safe,” the words were muttered into her skin.  

And as long as he was here, inside of her, Padmé could believe it.

* * *

 

The next day reality took the foremost in their lives. They woke up early and Anakin had to immediately leave for business at the Temple while Padmé spent an hour getting ready with Sabé before she had to go to her Senate meeting. 

The Senate meeting was a drag and a bore. Senators from different worlds were arguing over which way to solve a land dispute between two ruling classes on some outer-world that threatened to succeed from the Republic if it did not get the help it demanded. Padmé sat back and listened, waiting for the best sounding and peaceful suggestion before she would make her opinion known.

After at least three hours of nonstop talk, Padmé’s mind began to drift to thoughts of what her husband was doing right now. He was probably training with his former Master and best friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi, she supposed.

Her mind filled with images of him, turning in those quick motions, lightsaber blazing as he worked to perfect whichever lightsaber form he preferred that day. Blue eyes flashing, golden curls swaying with each movement and the sweat sliding down his skin in his exertions…

Padmé shifted in her seat as she grew wet from the image that she had created of Anakin. Of his beautiful exertion, his panting breath, the way his hips would move.

Oh force, she wanted him with her.

Tears pricked her eyes at their forced silence and their separation. She willed them away, brushing them back and straightening her spine.

_Don’t think of the sad_ , she chided herself, _think of the good. Think of the way you made love with him last night. The way he_ …

Padmé felt her face flush as the remembered the way Anakin had wantonly thrust back on her fingers. The way he had tightened those inner muscles around her flesh. The way he’d pleaded, his voice harsh and strangled. His cry of—

_“Fuck.”_

Padmé immediately set her face and peered around the room, hoping that her soft mutter had been just that, soft and unheard. The senators were still arguing and no face was turned to hers. She let out her breath and let out a released sigh. That is, until she caught sight of the amused look on Sabé’s face beside her. Those features so close to her own were turned with amusement, and her eyes danced.

“Not a word,” Padmé breathed, her face set.

Her bodyguard and best friend since she was a young girl, just shook her head in amusement and turned her eyes back to the meeting at hand.

But Padmé’s mind continued to work. She shifted in her seat as flashes of last night went though her mind and she felt herself grow wetter. Sabé’s face was still turned towards the meeting, but her lips curled and her mouth trembled at the strength it took to not smile broadly at Padmé’s obvious--

Wait, how obvious was she being? What did her friend know?

A thousand questions went through her but one stood out at the front, demanding to be heard.

What did she know of what Anakin and her had done last night?

Of course, the other woman didn’t know exact details, she wasn’t an observer to their marriage bed. But the other woman did live in the rooms next to hers and she might have heard something. Heard Anakin’s shouts.

Padmé wasn’t worried that her friend would say something. She was her protector and her friend. Deception was not a word that Padmé associated with Sabé. And besides, the woman knew of her marriage, from the first days back on Coruscant after her honeymoon. When Anakin had been sent to the warfront that first time Padmé had been a broken mess. And she had spilled out the whole story to Sabé in between her sobs. Since that day Sabé was a constant supporter of their marriage.

So no, she wasn’t afraid what the other woman had heard. She was intrigued. What did her friend know of what her and her husband had tried last night? Padmé knew her friend was quite the adventurous one in everything that she did; in her dress, in her words, in her choices of partners and in the way that she loved.

At the thought another hit her. One hot and wild and sinful. What knowledge could Sabé give her?

And with that thought and a smirk on her face, Padmé reached for the datapad before her and began to write out a list of questions and inquires. But those questions had nothing to do with what the senators around her were speaking of and they were all centered around, if she played her cards right, what Padmé would be doing to her husband tonight.

By the time the meeting was adjourned, no final agreement made, Padmé’s datapad included a list of things she would require and questions she wanted answers to.

Sabé helped her into her heavy shawl and then her eyebrows rose as Padmé handed her the datapad.

“I have some requests of you, my friend.”

Sabé’s interested smile and her raised eyebrows were full of amusement while Padmé’s smirk was downright sinful.

* * *

That night, when Anakin came home, Padmé was ready and waiting.

She heard him calling out for her from her perch on the small couch in their room. She kept her mouth shut, legs crossed, waiting for him to find her. She was in control of this game here. She’d let him come to her.

He asked for her a few times and then it was quite except for the sound of his footsteps on the carpet. He must have finally sensed her presence and come to investigate. He opened the door softly to reveal the dark room, eyes on their bed, whispering her name. 

Did he really think her to be asleep? Her silly boy. How wrong he was. Sleep was far far from her mind. In some other galaxy even.

“Anakin,” she purred.

His head turned to her, swift and surprised. “Padmé,” he exclaimed, his voice full of his boyish excitement at finding her.

To prove her thought he just about giggled at her, his voice light and playful, “Tag, you’re it.”

Padmé smiled and raised her hand towards the light switch on the wall.

Anakin, understanding her request, and unknowingly playing her game, turned the light on. And the moment that his eyes met her he froze as still as a statue. A few unintelligent words babbled from his mouth after a few seconds. A question in his eyes.

Padmé understood his actions. She had after all planned this. Her shock and awe campaign. And judging from the look on his face, she seemed to have it down quite well. The light had revealed Padmé in her short thigh high black coat, her three-inch black heels and elbow length black gloves, made to look like his own. Her hair was long and free and curled around her face, the way he loved it.

“I thought we’d have some fun tonight,” she said conversationally, waving her gloved hand towards the bed with its white sheets and the long length of black robe tied to the headboard.

Anakin’s eyes grew wide and he nodded his head like an obedient puppy.

Padmé smiled at the eagerness in his eyes and the way he shifted in place in the doorway, his erection obviously tenting his trousers. “I have a few requests, of course.” When he made no word of protest she continued on. “One, you have to listen to what I say. And two, keep an open mind, baby. I know you’ll love it.”

He nodded his head, his eyebrows rising in interest.

“Say you understand.”

“I understand.”

And with that he unknowingly had his fate sealed. Not that Padmé doubted that he’d love it. Love it so much that he’d be begging. Because her husband might be a General in the Grand Army of the Republic… but he’s also a man; a man who is just asking to be dominated.

And dominate him she would. Willingly.

“Close the door,” she commanded, her voice becoming what Anakin liked to call her “Queen voice.”

He smirked at the tone but did what she demanded of him nevertheless.

Suddenly a bit of worry filled her; how would he react? As quickly as the thought came to her, she shoved it aside, straightened her spin and stood up.

“Last night got me thinking,” she began, playing with the drawstring of her short coat. “And now,” she bit her lip briefly at what she was going to say and do, “Now I’m going to make a fantasy that neither of us knew we had into a reality.”

He took a step towards her, briefly looking at the rope knotted and coiled on the bed and then facing her again. “What would that be,” he asked, his voice harsh, a strange light in his eyes. She knew he must have been thinking of her in him, but unwilling to voice it, by the way that he shifted and his breathing became heavier.

There were so many things she could say. So many things she had thought of and dismissed. Some vague and some vulgar enough to make Anakin blush. But seeing him there, shifting, eager and confused, she made her decision. She only really needed one word to send him to his knees.

“Domination,” she said and then she released the tie and in one swift motion dropped the coat to the floor.

A strangled sound left Anakin’s throat and his eyes widened as he took her in. Padmé looked down at herself momentarily, impressed at what she had assembled.

She was in a revealing black lingerie that actually only consisted of black straps of fabric twisted around her body. And it hid nothing. The fabric was surrounding her breasts but revealing them, was showing off her toned stomach and her ass. The only actual bit of anything resembling clothing that she was wearing was the small corset harness that she wore as underwear. And jutting out from that underwear and belt contraption that formed a harness was a long flesh colored dildo.

Anakin just about choked at the sight.

Padmé looked up at him and just about laughed at the horny and yet confused, the heated and yet apprehensive look on his face.

He opened his mouth to spout out something about her dignity, she was sure, some protest at making her do something she didn’t want, but she shushed him by bringing her gloved hand to the dildo jutting from her hips and stroked it softly, like she had stroked him a hundred times before.

He let out another strangled sound that this time she couldn’t help but laugh at. “Oh, Ani,” she laughed, “you know I wouldn’t do a single thing that I wouldn’t want to do. Nor would I push you to do something you wouldn’t want to. But this…” she stroked the dildo again and ran her thumb over the tip, “After last night, I know you want this. And so do I.”

His eyes darted from her to the bed and its ropes and then back to her.

“Take off your clothes, Ani,” she commanded. “Everything.”

She had barley finished the sentence before he was frantically tearing at his clothes, as if he was afraid she’d change her mind.

“Don’t worry, my love,” she promised, “I won’t be changing my mind.” She ran the fingers of her free hand over her nipples and at the feeling of the leather of her gloves on the hard tips she couldn’t help but mewl out in pleasure. 

At the sound Anakin slowed down his stripping, but only slightly. She had never seen a Jedi strip that fast before in her life. It was quite amusing. And downright arousing to know he was that excited to let her have him.

Once he was stripped of all his garments, all thrown haphazardly around the room, she crooked her fingers at him, motioning him over to where she stood.

He eagerly rushed over to her, his cock hard and jutting up towards his toned stomach.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, her breath coming out in a pant. She didn’t know if he obeyed her order first or if she lunged towards him, but in the next second their mouths were fused together and their bodies flush. He gasped into her mouth at their cocks, one real and one not, rubbed together. She was shorter than him and so her fake one only brushed the bottom of his, but he was delighted by it nonetheless. He bent his knees and rubbed into her, his hands, warm flesh and hard durasteel, grasping her ass, while she wove her glove covered hands into his hair.

Gasping for breath she tore her mouth away from his and he feasted on the long column of her neck instead. “How did you—what gave you—why—“ he asked brokenly into her neck.

“After last night it wasn’t too hard to guess, Ani,” she laughed.

He shrugged, easily accepting the reply.

After a few moments she untangled herself from him, both moaning in protest at the action, and then lightly pushed him back.

“On your knees,” she commanded, her voice harsh and choked with excitement.

Anakin’s eyes darkened, not in protest but in pleasure and then he was shooting her a lewd smirk and falling to his knees.

He placed an innocent and reverent kiss on her trembling thighs, first one and then the other. And then he looked up at her and waited. He was biting his lip and his hands by his sides were in tight fists in restraint.

Padmé swallowed heavily, knowing that Anakin was as new to this as she was and would need some pointers and help. With Sabé’s advice in her mind, she set her tone to her “Queen’s voice” and spoke to her kneeling subject, her husband.

She brought her hand up to the jutting dildo and caressed it. “I’m going fuck you with this,” she said, “I think you should get a taste of it before I put it in you.”

He swallowed heavily and nodded his head. His hands shook as he rested them on her thighs and scooted closer to her. But his eyes were eager to try, eager to please. She pulled her hand from the dildo and rested it in his dark golden curls.  She tilted him towards her.

He opened his mouth slightly and brushed his lips against the head of the dildo. Padmé’s mouth went dry and she felt a flush of wet flow from her cunt at the image before her. His tongue darted out from his parted lips and ran along the top of the dildo. Seeming satisfied in its taste, he opened his mouth further and took the head inside of his wet mouth.

Padmé groaned at the sight of her husband on his knees, a cock in his mouth. “Oh my fucking force,” she whispered. Pleasure shot through her at each thrust.

He smirked around the head of the cock at the sound of the vulgar words and then began to slowly bob his head. He must know what an image he made. With his blue eyes, golden curls, red mouth around that cock. Padmé wanted to take a fucking picture of it to keep forever. She’d have to remember that for next time.

On his knees he worked her, head bobbing, hands tight on her thighs to hold them steady. He seemed to have a plan in mind as he tried different things. Sometimes just licking the tip, others deep thrusting it as far as he could.

“Yes, do what you love,” Padmé pleaded, loving this show that she was getting. She was wet beyond her imagination at the sight of her husband, this strong Jedi Knight and General, wantonly sucking at a cock.

At her words he redoubled his efforts, changing pace, running his tongue along the length of it, fisting it in his hand. He kept on peeking up at her, as if looking for praise. She fisted her hand further in his hair and placed her other hand onto his face to help guide him on her.

“Force, Anakin,” she all but sobbed, “you look so fucking beautiful like this.”

He smiled, pleased, around the cock in his mouth.

But it wasn’t enough, she wanted more and she could tell by the way he was bobbing harder on her that he did too. She pressed lightly on his cheek, pressing him back. He made a sound of protest but went where she led him.

“Sit on the bed,” she commanded.

Without pausing in question for an instant, he leapt up to his feet, using his Jedi reflexes and then sat on the edge of their bed. She stalked over to him, the cock between her legs bobbing with her motions. His eyes were glued to her, his face flushed with arousal. She reached down between his legs and grasped his hard and hot erection in her hand. He cried out, throwing his head back at the feel of her leather bound hand on him. She used her other hand to take a hold of her dildo and then ran it along the cock in her hand.

Anakin moaned and lifted his hips to her, whispering her name in reverence. She lowered the dildo till it was angled with his balls and then she lightly began to tap up at them as she stroked his cock with her other hand. She felt him pulse lightly in her hand and she slid her hand down to press around the base of his cock. “Not so soon, Ani,” she chided, “we’re hardly begun.”

He growled at her but nodded just the same. Satisfied that he was still listening to her, she gave him three more taps on his balls in praise. He groaned with each tap.

“Get on the bed. On your hands and knees. Facing the headboard.”

He wordlessly scrambled up the sheets till he was where she had requested of him. His raised ass and jutting cock trembled with his want.

“You’re allowed to talk, Anakin” she remarked, walking around the bed to reach the ropes before him. “In fact, I encourage it. Tell me what you like. What you want.”

Apparently this is what he needed to hear as he began to babble out a sting of words and phrases, not all of them coherent. “Fuck. Yes, this is what I—please don’t stop. I want you in me. In me now. Please don’t stop, baby. Padmé please fuck me. Fuck me hard.”

“As you wish, love,” Padmé purred. “But only if you do one thing for me.”

“What,” he panted, turning lust filled eyes towards her. “Anything.”

“That’s right, anything,” she praised him, stroking his cheek. He leaned into the softness of her hand. She leaned in, whispering into his ear, “then I want you to watch as I fuck you.” She then tilted his head up to force him to look at the mirror that was before him. He growled at the sight. “I had it added this afternoon. I thought you’d like it,” she smirked, knowing that this mirror would get quite the use in their bedroom.

“Oh fuck, yes Padmé, I love it,” he panted, his eyes wide as he looked at his reflection.

Wordlessly she reached for the ropes before him. “Give me your hands,” she said, holding the ropes up.

He practically shoved them at her, nearly falling over in his haste to give her what she wanted. She giggled at him and he grinned happily back at her. She wrapped the ropes around his wrists, twisting them over and under and then repeating the motion. Once tied, she checked the twist by pulling at it slightly. Anakin moaned at the dragging motion. “Fuuuuck,” he chocked out.

Satisfied, she tied the lose end around the headboard and secured it with a knot to the other end, already woven into the headboard. She then walked around the bed and crawled up behind her lover. He met her eyes in the mirror and wiggled his ass at her.

“Not quite yet,” she said, “I have to make you ready first.”

“Already ready,” he tried, pressing back at her, whining.

“Believe me, you’ll like this,” she assured him and then bent down. She placed her hands on his ass cheeks and spread him before her. He made a small noise but made no motion to pull away. She leaned in and licked at the puckered hole before her.

His shocked and pleased scramble backwards towards her at the motion nearly send her falling off the bed. “Calm down,” she laughed as she re-found her position behind him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He growled desperately and wiggled his ass at her. She chuckled and leaned back in.

She dragged her tongue up the flesh before her three times, pressing more each time. And then she pressed her tongue into him. He mewled and cried out, “fuck.” Knowing she had his approval she began to press harder, thrusting her tongue into him and back out in the parody of sex.

He was so tight around her tongue, she wondered how she’d fit in him. She nearly laughed at the thought. He’d said the same thing to her right before the first time he’s taken her up the ass. And she had found it to be little trouble and quite pleasant indeed. So she pressed on. She curled her tongue in him like she had with her fingers last night and he just about choked on his pleased sob.

She thrust her tongue into him a few more times, lapping at his insides, before she pulled back. She then slid off the bed and towards the nightstand.

Anakin’s head was bowed over his tied hands, panting. “More, I want more.”

“Just a moment love,” she assured him, opening the drawer and pulling out the bottle of lube that she had stashed there.

“Padmé,” he whined impatiently.

Taking pity on him, she ran her free hand along his back to sooth him. He arched like a cat into her hand and practically purred at the contact. “It’s alright, love. I’ll give you more. So much more.”

And then his eyes were on her as she opened the bottle of lube and poured some onto the dildo jutting out between her thighs. Padmé grew wetter just looking at the way his eyes were glued to the lube sliding down the skin colored flesh, especially picked by her to be similar in size to her husband. She slicked up the dildo, coating it in the lube, taunting him with it. She only ceased when he growled her name in warning.

“Stop screwing with me and fuck me already,” he demanded.

“So pushy,” she scolded him but she was smiling as she slid onto the bed behind him. His breath came out in harsh pants as she coated her fingers with the lube and then ran them over the crease of his ass. After three taunting presses she pressed forward into him with two fingers. She slid into him with the help of the lube, with little resistance. She crooked her fingers in him twice and then began to slide them in and out of him. When he was pushing back on her hand and growling for more, she slid another finger in, till there was three inside of him, and then pistoned her fingers four times quickly into him. His harsh cry and the leaking of pre-come from his cock let Padmé know that he was ready for her.

She pulled her fingers back, using this new wetness on her dildo as an added slick. Her eyes met his in the mirror.

“Wait,” he suddenly gasped. “What about you?”

Padmé smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.” At his questioning look in the mirror, she clarified by motioning to the harness she was in. “It’s a double dildo,” she said, “it’s inside of me while I’m in you.” She lowered her voice to a purr, “you on your knees wasn’t just a beautiful sight, love. It felt so good. You kept on pressing it inside of me so good. So good baby. I could barley concentrate.”

His mouth fell open and he stared at her in blatant shock.

At the look on his face she couldn’t help but laugh, loving her ability to shock him and make him speechless.

Once he found his voice he laughed as well. “I will _never_ grow tired of you woman,” he declared.

“I love you too, baby,” she smiled, caressing his back, fingers running down the broad shoulders all the way down to the crease of his ass. Once there she pressed her fingers teasingly along his entrance. At his push backwards and into her she pulled back and lightly slapped his ass with a tisking noise. He just groaned and buried his face into the sheets before him, ass still in the air.

“Alright, enough teasing,” she agreed, reaching under him to stroke his cock softly twice.

He let out relieved moan into the sheets and then sat up, staring into the mirror back at her. She moved till she was lined up to him, the dildo resting against him. She pressed the slicked top to his ass, one hand going to rest on his hip, and whispered to him, “Just breath.” And then she gripped the dildo and was pressing into him.

He made a low sound, his body shifting beneath hers as she pressed against the tight ring of muscle and into him. Her breath left her in little pants as she watched the dildo slide into him and she felt the other end, inside of her and warmed by her heat, shift. He moaned again as pressed further into him, his eyes in the mirror screwed shut and his mouth open as he panted. Once she was about halfway in, she moved her guiding hand and put it on his other hip. And then she pressed her hips forward and the rest of the dildo slid home.

At the jolting thrust he cried out, his body shooting forwards in shock. “Shhh,” she soothed and then stilled her body, allowing him to adjust to the feeling of being filled. “Just take a moment,” she told him, knowing from personal experience that once he caught his breath, he would be fine. After a few moments her husband shifted on the sheets, sliding back hesitantly.  

Seeing that he was ready, she slowly pulled herself away from him and then pressed back into him. He let out a low moan as the dildo slid into him again. She slowly slid in and out of him a few times, letting him get used to the feeling of being filled. Each glide sent the part inside of her moving but she refused to go all out until he asked for it.

After a few more glides Anakin let out a soft cry and began to move back onto her. “Padmé,” he moaned, his eyes fluttering in his pleasure, the muscles of his neck straining as he leaned his head back.

“Yes,” she asked, her thrusts slow and steady in and out of him.

His eyes met hers in the mirror before him, flashing and heavy with lust. “Fuck me,” he gasped.

Padmé gave her reply by pulling back till just the head of the dildo was in him and then after pausing for a few seconds, pressed long and hard into him.

His breath left him in a gasp and he bucked back at her. “Fuck, yes,” he hissed.

And then Padmé began to thrust into him in earnest. Anakin responded to her deep thrusts by shouting out and bucking his hips back at her. She was obviously hitting that sweet spot inside of him as he was mewling and a constant mantra of “fuck, yes, angel. Padmé fuuuuccckkk,” left his mouth as he twisted back onto her. And the other end of the dildo, wet with her own slick, jolted into her with each thrust.

Like a man possessed, he pressed back onto her, taking her in deep.

The power that she felt, knowing that she was the one bending her husband over, taking his ass, when no one else ever had nor ever will, sent her blood hot. She gasped and panted, loving the look of him, thrashing, hands grabbing at the sheets before him, eyes wide and mouth letting out cries and profanities in a mix of basic and Huttiese.

Wanting to find that edge of pleasure, and knowing that he did too, Padmé leaned into Anakin, reached underneath him and grasped his hard and leaking cock.

His next cry was practically a sob as he thrust into the hand that was surrounding him and then back onto the cock inside of him. She tightened her fist around his hard and hot cock, sliding in time with her thrusts into his ass.

The room was filled with their gasping breaths, the creak of the bed and the sound of slapping flesh. He kept on crying out, vulgar words that made Padmé gush, her body growing hotter and hotter. Their bodies slid together easily with the help of their slick bodies, one thrust forward and then one back.

He thrust back harsher than before and it jolted the other end of the dildo harder into her causing her to cry out. Mindless, she reached out with her free hand for something to grab onto. Her fingers tangled in his hair and pulled. He gasped at the pleasure blended with pain and rolled his hips.

“Please,” he cried out.

“Please what,” she asked, panting and yet feigning innocence.

“I want to—want to come,” he gasped out, thrusting back into the dildo in his ass and the hand around his cock.

“Ani,” she cooed, her thrusts slowing till they were more of a rocking motion inside of him. “You want to come for me, don’t you?”

“Yessssssss,” cried out, nodding his head furiously in her grip. He cried out and shook, begging her by thrusting back onto her.

Still holding onto his hair, she leaned into him, changing the angle of her thrusts so that the cock inside of him must have hit his prostate, causing him to shout out his favorite profanity, and she whispered into his ear, “Then tell me you’re my little bitch.”

His body nearly stilled in his shock but then he was quickly nodding his head and shouting, all pride gone, “I’m your little bitch. Fuck, I’m your bitch Padmé!” He practically snarled, his hips slamming back into her, hands tearing at the sheets in his grasp.

With a satisfied smirk Padmé released his curls and let his head drop down. He instantly dropped it down to the bed, his face to the side and pressed his ass higher into the air.

“Your bitch, yours, yours Padmé,” he sobbed, his eyes tearing up in the delay of his pleasure.

She showed how grateful she was by throwing all caution to the wind, both hands on his hips and pounding into her husband’s tight body.

He came with a howl, hands ripping at the sheets in his hands, ass clenching around the dildo inside of him. His come came in quick and thick jets, flying out and coating the sheets beneath them. His tears finally fell as he felt the relief of his orgasm.

Padmé twisted her hips, pounding a few more times into her sensitive boy, feeling the other end of the dildo rubbing that spot just right…

She came with a shout and collapsed against the sweaty back of her worn out husband.

When she felt that she could move without collapsing, she sat up and eased the dildo out of Anakin. He mewled in protest, pressing back at her. She ran her hand along his back soothingly and then on shaky legs, crawled up the bed. Her husband watched her with drowsy eyes as she undid the knots holding his hands together. Once they were released, she leaned down and kissed the wear there from Anakin’s tugging on the rope in his pleasure. She leaned over to the bedside table and grabbed the small case of bacta she’d set aside, just in case. She sighed as the dildo brushed against her leg at the motion, twisting inside of her.

Turning back to him she found that he’d moved to his side, watching her with a smile on his face. She smiled back at him and rubbed some of the bacta on his flesh hand. Once soothed by the cream she set it aside and began to unhook the straps of the harness around her hips. Those tired blue eye watched her as the straps undid under her hands and then she was pulling the harness and the dildo off her. She moaned as the other end slid out of her with a wet sound.

He grinned at the evidence of her own pleasure and then held his hand out for her. She tossed the harness and dildo aside and took his offered hand, sliding down to lie next to him. Taking charge for the first time all night, Anakin grabbed her hips and as he turned onto his back, pulled her on top of him. She sighed pleasantly as she settled on top of him, her legs on either side of his hips. She placed a lazy kiss on his chest. “My little slut,” she cooed softly.

He chuckled but didn’t deny it as he used the force to call their blankets up to cover them. And then his arms were around her and they were drifting off to sleep.

But before sleep claimed them, Anakin said with an exhausted chuckle, “Best. Damn. Surprise. Ever. Padmé.”

Padmé nuzzled his chest and sighed happily, “Anything for you, baby. Anything for you.”

And then their minds were too overloaded to do anything but fall into sleeps embrace with contented smiles on their faces.

* * *

The next day when she woke up, Anakin was still in quite the pleased mood, though his ass was quite sore, he did admit. She just smiled at him and told him that it would be a reminder of her for when he went back to the Temple.

He slowly took awhile to put on his clothes as he had to crawl around on the floor, a sight that had Padmé giggling, in order to find where the kriffing hell he had thrown his clothes in his haste to have Padmé take him. After he dressed, he leaned over the bed and gave her a farewell kiss that was soft and sweet. “I’ll see you later, angel,” he whispered and then he was gone.

Padmé dressed as quickly as possible, changing out of her slept in lingerie and into a semi-formal dress. Sabé came into her room and helped her do her hair and then they were off to their meeting. Sabé had an odd glint in her eye but she didn’t say anything, especially after seeing the harness and dildo had been thrown onto the floor the night before, to which Padmé was grateful.

This second part to the Senate meeting about the land dispute was not what Padmé wanted to be doing right now, but she went anyway. She settled into her seat, Sabé at her side, and waited for the proceedings to begin. Right before the Senate meeting was about to begin, two figures in Jedi cloaks, hoods up, entered the room.

Padmé just about choked as they took off their hoods to reveal none other than her friend, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and her husband, Anakin Skywalker. When Anakin saw her he looked just about as shocked as she was, but for appearance sake, they both set their features and kept quiet.

The two men were introduced to the small senate group and then seated across from Padmé.

Needless-to-say, Padmé was not interested at all in the proceedings and solely focused on her husband. Her twitching and flushed faced husband.

Obi-Wan kept on giving his former padawan confused looks as he shifted in his seat, shooting quick glances at Padmé and trying not to be obvious. Poor Obi-Wan had no idea what had gotten into his friend. No idea.

Padmé smirked, grabbing her datapad and searching for Anakin’s datapad’s info. Once she found it she typed in three words and sent the message to him.

Anakin looked surprised to see his datapad’s inbox light go off and he turned interested eyes to it. Padmé knew the exact instant that he read her message as his face flushed and his eyes widened in excitement. He sent no reply but he nodded his head at her, confirming her words.

_*My little bitch*, indeed,_ she smirked. 

Anakin shifted in his seat again and Padmé blushed at the lewd thoughts of what she would do to her husband when this meeting was over.

Sabé leaned into her, smirking, “I see your surprise went over well last night.”

Padmé whispered back, her face flush with pride, “quite well.”

The other woman laughed softly, “It’s say so. The poor boy can’t even sit still. You must have really given it to him.”

Padmé said nothing but her smile was downright sinful and she nodded in agreement.

After a few moments of silence, Sabé leaned back into Padmé and whispered, “I wonder what Kenobi’s doing tonight.”

Padmé couldn’t stop the snort of amused snort of laughter that escaped her. Sabé joined in on her quiet laughter but her eyes were quite serious and Padmé could tell that Sabé already was beginning to plan her seduction. 

From across the table, Obi-Wan had a look of genuine confusion on his face as he looked at the two women who were smirking devilishly…

* * *

 

**AN:** Oh yes, I’ve fully decided that Sabé is quite the adventurous one. It’s now my headcanon for her. So feel free to suggest other things for this handmaiden to share or do herself. Maybe I might even write her and Obi-Wan’s night. But only if you ask nicely. If you want to have a part two for Anakin and Padmé, please feel free to message me with what you’d like. I’d like to write a second part for this, but I’m not sure what our adventurous couple would like to do next, so if you have an idea, let me know. And if you give me encouragement or a nice review and I might even write a Luke/Mara one with the same idea. And yes, I blame that last thought on you Ror. Damn you for seeing Harps pic of a blonde man and a redhead woman and asking if it was Luke/Mara. 


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